Bedtime story
by pawpad
Summary: Napoleon tells a sick Illya a bedtime story.


Disclaimer: Don't own anyone in this. It's also my first Man From UNCLE fic. It's just an idea that popped into my head at work the other day.

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Sneaking into to places unnoticed was part of his job, something he considered himself rather good at, but he took extra care as he eased himself into the hospital room hoping not to disturb the patient lying sleep on the bed. It was the one stipulation the doctor had given Napoleon regarding his visit. It was a fair rule.

Napoleon managed to produce barely a sound as he made his way to the hard back chair beside the bed which creaked a little as he sat down. Illya remained asleep. Napoleon looked him over, hoping to see some colour back in his cheeks, but he still looked pale and sweaty. His breathing was still laboured even though assisted by an oxygen mask. At least he was improving, so the doctor said.

The last assignment was partly to blame for his illness and the rest was all thanks to Illya's stubbornness.

It'd actually been a fairly simple affair, just prevent some vital documents from being transferred from one THRUSH office to another. Simple, quick, but had still somehow involved a chase half way around the city, ending with them commandeering the documents after Illya had fished them out of the Hudson river. Like always he'd just dived right in to get them, fully clothed. It was something he tended to do a lot and usually came out all right. This time, however, he came out with a cold. Or that's what he said it was.

For the following days he insisted he was fine despite having a fever and nasty cough. He came to work, did his paperwork and ignored all of Napoleon's advice about going home or seeing a doctor. He insisted it was just a cold and he'd been on assignments with worse.

However, it wasn't just a cold and it didn't get better, in fact it got a lot worse and a few days later Illya barely made it into work. He wasn't three steps through the door when a severe coughing fit left him light headed and he collapsed into Napoleon's surprised arms.

He'd caught a bad case of pneumonia, which probably hadn't been too bad at first, but taking so long to get it treated had made it as stubborn as the man it was infecting. The doctor said he'd probably inhaled some of the water.

He'd been pretty delirious the first day, he kept switching between languages when he talked making it hard to work out what he was talking about. The following day his fever hadn't broken, but his temperature was down and the dilemma had past.

Illya was going to be all right, he just had to stay bed for a while, something he'd obviously wanted to avoid.

Napoleon was off duty and thought he'd spend the start of it checking for himself that Illya was all right. Of course that was hard to judge while he was asleep, but he planned to keep his promise that he wouldn't wake him. To entertain himself he had a read through the Get Well Soon card standing on the desk. It was signed by nearly everyone in the building, which was very considerate.

He put the card down and perused the rest of the room, but there wasn't much else to examine. He straightened his tie, swept some lint off his trousers and had a stretch. Maybe it would be better to come back later when Illya was awake. He stood up from the chair, still careful not to make any noise, but either the Russian managed to hear the soft creaking of wood or he'd just coincidently chosen that moment to open his eyes. It wasn't clear how awake he was, but he sighed deeply, which set off a fierce coughing fit.

Napoleon poured a glass of water from the jug by the bed. He removed the oxygen mask and helped his friend drink a little of the water. It helped and Napoleon replaced the mask.

"For the record I didn't wake you up, I hope we have that clear."

Illya just stared at him, not seeming to comprehend what Napoleon had just said.

"You are awake right?" Napoleon waved his hand in front of Illya's face which the Russian didn't seem to appreciate and weakly whacked the hand away.

"I'll take that as a yes. I just stopped by to see how you were feeling."

Illya gave a gentle sigh. His eyes focusing on Napoleon.

"And I'd also like to make it clear I'm not here to say I told you so. That would be rather cruel, after all you are suffering for your stubbornness and who am I to rub salt into the wound."

Napoleon smiled. Illya just stared.

"But maybe next time you'll listen to me. Though probably not."

Illya turned his head away slightly and looked away. Whether this was to show annoyance or embarrassment Napoleon couldn't tell.

"I wasn't the only one either, everyone said how bad you looked. I could have heard that rattle in your chest from behind a soundproof wall."

Illya just rolled his eyes, still looking away.

"Anyway, I came here to cheer you up and to that end I brought you a book." He handed the paperback to Illya who after a few seconds turned to look at it. A few seconds more and he took it.

"It's about the Industrial Revolution, written by an acclaimed Historian so I've heard. Goes into a lot of detail, including all about the Luddites and their hopes of stopping progress with their vandalism. I thought you'd enjoy that."

Illya moved the book closer to his face, squinting his eyes.

"Oh uh.." Napoleon checked his pockets, but it was for show, he knew he'd forgotten something. "I'm afraid I didn't bring your glasses."

Illya lowered his arm, the book falling from his weak grasp on to the bed.

"Sorry about that, I'll get them later. You don't look up to reading much at the moment anyway."

Napoleon hadn't brought anything else with him and wasn't sure what else to say. Illya clearing wasn't up to saying anything, but he also wasn't going back to asleep. It was clear that entertaining his partner was going to be a challenge.

Silence fell. The only sound disturbing it was Illya's harsh breathing, still labouring under the oxygen mask.

"Well, since reading a story is out, how about I tell you one instead."

Illya blinked slowly and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"I'll tell you a bedtime story. I know it's only..." he consulted his watch, "half ten in the morning, but you're in bed so it's appropriate."

He leaned back in this chair and had a think.

"First, what kind of story to tell. An action packed thriller perhaps with murders, tension, suspense and drama." He shook his head. "No, too much like our day to day lives."

He pondered some more. "How about a good horror story. Creepy locations, supernatural beings, an intimidating castle on a hill crawling with bats..."

He stopped at Illya's hard gaze, clearing not happy with that suggestion.

"Right, horror's out." Napoleon smiled. "How about a lovely romance, handsome man meets beautiful woman, they fall in love and run away to Paris to get married."

Illya rolled his eyes.

Napoleon sighed. "You suggest something then."

Illya looked up at the ceiling, possibly thinking.

"Oh, actually, I have an idea." Napoleon leaned forwards. "Since it's a bed time story it should be a children's story. With talking animals."

Illya raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Right, that's it then. So, once upon a time, in a forest there was this...fox. This cunning, crafty fox called..." He paused. "Let's call him Nathaniel, okay. Nathaniel the fox and he had a friend called..." Another pause. "Elijah, the Siberian Husky. An unlikely partnership, I grant you, but in this forest all animals live together in peaceful harmony."

Illya frowned.

"That is until the...evil birds flew in and tried to take over the forest. There were so many of them their nests covered every tree and they protected these trees by...by...bombing anyone who got close with acorns and other things they were able to pick up to use as projectiles."

Napoleon smiled. He was quite enjoying his own story.

"So, Nathaniel and Elijah knew they had to stop these evil birds from taking over their forest. They felt it was their responsibility to protect it. It was their home after all. They had to think of a way to attack the birds in their own domain; the trees. But how to get up their." Napoleon paused for what he hoped sounded like a dramatic pause, but really he was thinking of how to continue. He clicked his fingers.

"And that's when Nathaniel had a very clever idea. Cats. They can climb trees and they love chasing birds. So, Nathaniel and Elijah journey out of the forest to find some cats. They find some in the local city, a whole gang of stray cats living in alley ways. Nathaniel convinces them to help them out, seeing how his plan benefited both of them. The cats got a free meal and Nathaniel got his home back. So, the cats follow them back to the forest. And the battle begins."

Napoleon leaned even closer.

"The cats attack the moment they enter the forest, giving the birds no chance to prepare themselves. The cats are led by Elijah who is surprisingly fond of climbing trees and is quite good at it. The battle is swift and brutal, but this being a children's story, we can't make it too gory, so the birds, realising they are losing take the the skies, to find another forest to take over. The day is saved, the cats are invited to stay in the forest and Nathaniel and Elijah reward themselves with a drink at the local...river. The end."

Napoleon leaned back. "Not a bad story I thought."

Illya just shrugged with his eyebrows and closed his eyes.

"Not the review I was expecting," Napoleon sighed, but he swore he could see the barest of smiles on Illya's lips. That said something. He patted his friend on the arm and searched the draw beside the bed.

"I wonder if I can find a pen and paper to write this down."


End file.
